One Afternoon Tutorials--Underwear

Sketch of a chemise, by David Ring.
Found on Wikimedia Commons

Having covered almost every other type of quick costuming project, I come to what is perhaps the most basic category of all:  one-afternoon projects about underwear.  

Underwear is the layer of clothing closest to the body.  It includes shifts for women (also called chemises), breast bands and bras, men's shirts, loincloths (wearable by either sex though usually associated with men) and equivalents of what Americans now call "panties" for women.  Before the 20th century, underwear was most often made of linen in Europe and America, but in modern times it's usually made from cotton or cheap synthetic fabric worldwide.

Until at least the end of the medieval period, stockings and socks arguably qualified as underwear under the above definition, because they typically were not made to be seen.  However, stockings and socks require special fitting and design, which is why they are not included here, though some stocking projects can be as quick to make as the items discussed below.  Corsets are also underwear, but because they require way too much detail work to be a one-afternoon project, I will not include them here either.

NOTE:  A man's shirt or woman's shift likely will take longer than a single afternoon to make (even during the summer) if completely handsewn.  If one cheats by using a sewing machine, it should be doable in one afternoon, as it involves mostly long straight seams.  For that reason, I have included shifts and shirts here.

As always, unless I have said otherwise here, I have not made any of the items in this collection of tutorials myself.  

Breast Support: 

• Mammilare or Strophium:  These are Roman terms for a simple band to constrain and support the breasts.  The simplest form is a long, narrow rectangular piece of fabric, ripped along the grain to provide a straight though unhemmed edge.  This website shows a very basic one made from wool, whose natural stretch would make it a good choice for folk who do not get an allergic reaction after wearing wool against the skin.  See it here.  (Frankly, I'm surprised to find this post still available on the Internet, since I first discovered it more than two decades ago.)
  
• Late Medieval "Supportive" Smock:  This is a kind of smock that is cut to provide some support for the breasts.  Elena of Neulakko explains its use, as well as how to make one, here.

Men's Shirts: 

• Early Modern Shirt: The Costume Historian provides this tutorial, which is suitable for the period from roughly 1530 to 1660 CE.
  
• Regency Era Shirt:  The Tea In A Teacup blog provides an illustrated tutorial as to how to make a shirt from the Regency (roughly, the early 1810s to the early 1820s).   You can find that tutorial here.  
• 18th Century Shirt:   From La couturière française comes a genuine shirt tutorial and pattern from the mid-18th century, with clarifying text from the owner of the web site.  Potentially a lot of fun, if you have the right mindset and skills.  

Women's Shifts and Petticoats:  

 

Shifts did change in design, slowly, over time.  Early medieval shifts were fairly wide through the body, with long sleeves and a neckline matching the neckline of the gown under which they were worn.  Later medieval shifts could be sleeveless as they were often worn under form-fitting gowns.  Renaissance shifts (such as the Venetian camisia below) were extremely wide, both in the body and sleeves, and were gathered with tiny gathers into a band that usually matched the neckline of the gown with which they were to be worn. 18th century shifts could have three-quarter-length sleeves and were quite short.  19th century shifts were short-sleeved or sleeveless, about knee-length or came just below the knee, and were finally replaced with "combinations"--which were closed with loose legs on the bottom.  Below are some examples of tutorial on how to make a sampling of female undergarments through the ages:

• Viking/Early Medieval:  It is believed that these garments were shaped just like an ordinary gown or robe, but were often made of linen and worn underneath one or more garments. (The Viborg shirt, a male equivalent, is too complicated to be a one afternoon job.)  They can be made quickly if done anachronistically with a sewing machine; handsewing them, though a simple matter of making many long straight seams, takes much longer.  Handsewing History has a well-illustrated tutorial about how to make such a garment, here.  
• Byzantine (10th century):  Peter Beatson's pattern for a Byzantine undershirt is based upon an actual archaeological find, the Manazan shirt, on display in a Turkish museum.  This style may have been worn by both men and women; the gender of the wearer of the Manazan shirt is, to my knowledge, still debated. NOTE:  My Manazan shirt, which I wrote about in several different posts starting here, used Beatson's original proposed pattern, which his page now explains was probably erroneous.
• Venetian Camisia (16th century): Shown for informational purposes, though handling the fine gathering is more easily done by hand and probably takes the end result out of the range of a one-afternoon project.  Bella's Realm of Venus site includes a tutorial here.   I have also found an "easy to wear" version that's a bit less thoroughly historical, where the construction seams were sewn by machine, though the gathering was still done by hand. 
• 18th Century Shift:  Like medieval shifts, these are made from geometrically shaped pieces of fabric and connected with straight seams.  Mara Riley's tutorial explains the technique and gives supporting sources and suggestions for obtaining needed supplies as well.  Find it here.    
• 18th Century Petticoat:  Petticoats were worn from the Renaissance through the end of the 19th century. Construction does not change much; these are essentially a quantity of fabric pleated or gathered onto a waistband.  Since the waistband is never when the garment is worn, how you make the petticoat matters less than the type of fabric you use and the length of the garment.  Try this tutorial from the American Duchess website.   

Men's Underpants:

• Loincloths:  People living in cultures who do not wear any other clothing often wear loincloths.  The simplest form of these requires a cloth about 18 inches wide, which is wrapped around the man's waist at least twice.  The hanging end is then brought between his legs, from back to front, tucked into the wrapped portion, and allowed to hang over the wrapped portion in front.  This website, which discusses loincloths worn in Borneo, also gives a surprisingly good tutorial on how to wrap a "generic" loincloth, here.   
• Dhoti:  The dhoti is a wrapped, lower body garment worn in India.  It may be short or long. It's essentially a loincloth with pleats used to control the extra fabric, and thus comes farther down the legs than a loincloth does.  This page provides a useful tutorial, with sketches, in how to shape and drape a dhoti.  NOTE:  The page is not in English, but the drawings are clear and easy to understand.  It even includes a video! 
• Braies:  This article (in both Finnish and English) suggests that the type of knee-length underpants shown on men in European medieval art could have been made by draping, belting and tying a suitably-sized piece of cloth.  The technique is speculative, but would make for a very quick project indeed!
• Civil War (Men's) Drawers:  More complicated than a loincloth, but still reasonably simple.  This link will take you to a blog which explains the construction and includes an image of the original pattern, which should be sufficient for some people to reproduce such a garment, though it's not a project for a beginner.

Women's Underpants:  

Until the Renaissance, women do not seem to have worn underpants, at least not after Rome fell.  There is some evidence for the use of a garment by Ancient Roman women called a subligaculum. (However, it's possible that the bikini-type garment shown in this ancient Roman mosaic by women engaging in physical exercise was not worn anywhere other than in a physical exercise context.) 

From the Realm of Venus page we have an illustrated discussion of the evidence for long (knee-length) drawers being worn by at least some Italian women during the Renaissance.  

I have not hunted for free tutorials in this category because there is no consensus about the shape of Renaissance-era underpants, and commercial patterns are easily available for many later period undergarments.  If I find additional tutorials on female undergarments, I will write another post on this subject.  

Do your own research if the maximum possible historical correctness is your aim, but whatever else you do, have fun!

The Lengberg Finds and Late Medieval Tailoring

A few years ago, I wrote several posts drawing my readers' attention to the work of Beatrix Nutz with various 15th century undergarment finds from Lengberg Castle in East Tyrol.  A few days ago, I found the video that appears to the right of this blog, which shares some original research that is even more startling.  A webpage by the University of Innsbruck briefly describing this project can be seen here. 

The video is a narrated slideshow about the implications of the Lengberg finds for the history of tailoring. The slideshow was created by Professor Nutz and two independent American researchers, Rachel Case, and Marion McNealy, who used their long experience in historical sewing to make reproductions of some of the Lengberg finds to discover how they must have been created.   The result is a fascinating look at some long-forgotten techniques of European tailoring.

Their analysis started with the find that resembles a modern long-line bra: a few other costumers had previously recreated that item, as the links in this sentence show.  Rachel and Marion believed that the "bra" was actually only part of an undergarment which was more of a supportive dress, since the "bra" had a calf-length skirt attached.  They reasoned that, without a skirt, the bra would tend to ride up and be uncomfortable and less supportive.

Of even greater interest, and research value, were pleated pieces of linen that the team concluded was the underlayer of a dress.  Two such finds are discussed, one believed to have been made for a grown woman and one for a little girl.  The fact that bits of blue wool remain fastened to the right side of the linen tend to support that idea.  Between their review of period artworks showing dresses with similar shaping in the bodice area, analysis of the finds themselves, and their recreations, the three researchers reached some interesting conclusions.

Their first theory, as noted above, was that the "long-line" bra likely had an attached skirt. (I wonder what the costumers who have made non-skirted versions think of this idea.)

Their second theory is that the purpose of the pleated sections of the dress-lining was to shape the gown over the chest.  Though it isn't clear what purpose the pleats served for the little girl's dress, the effect of the pleats over the chest on the woman's dress would be to emphasize (without supporting, because the skirted bra undergarment does that) each breast separately as its own rounded shape--a profile that appears in period art and that Nutz/Case/McNealy call "apple breasts."

This "apple breast" shape was achieved, they believe, by stitching the pleated linen lining to the wool outer fabric by a technique used by modern tailors to create wool suits today.  It's called pad stitching.  The sempstress.com site has a tutorial explaining the technique here.  The lined garment would then be steamed or pressed to further perfect the shape of the gown, which would be worn with a skirted bra-type garment.  Bias-cut sections located in the strap areas are also critical for the correct shape.

Why didn't this tailoring style persist?  In the early 16th century, fashion for women shifted to styles that compressed the breast, and sometimes the waist, to create a more conical shape.  This silhouette was created primarily by an undergarment called "stays" and more recently, the "corset".  Shaping with a corset did not require unusual shaping of the gown, so the pad stitching fell into disuse, and the corset remained the primary women's shaping garment for the next 400 years.

This slideshow is heartily recommended as a great way to absorb the critical details of a key piece of new research from the Lengberg finds.

Still More on the Lengberg Linen

Dürer , Self-Portrait (Wikimedia Commons)

Yes, I am going to write once more about the 15th century linen finds in Lengberg Castle.  For those of you who are tired of my posts about 600-year-old linen, I apologize.  But every article I read about the Lengburg linen gives me with new and fascinating information to think about.  It's nearly impossible to overstate how much those finds have to tell us about the undergarments of that period, and increasing our knowledge of the underwear of that period will have an impact on our deductions about underwear earlier in the Middle Ages.

Professor Nutz published a long, information-dense article in Issue No. 54 of  Archaeological Textiles Review; the full citation of which is as follows:

Nutz, Beatrix and Stadler, Harold. "How to Pleat a Shirt in the 15th Century."  Archaeological Textiles Review, No. 54, pp. 79-91 (2012).

It would not be possible for me to summarize the article without simply repeating what the authors said, but here's some critical details that will be of interest to those hoping to learn how to improve the authenticity of their 15th century underwear.

Nutz and Stadler's article focuses on the number of shirt/neckline finds at Lengberg. The ones discussed feature full shirts/shifts with round necklines.  The fullness has been pleated into many small even pleats which have been secured by a neckband, and sometimes also with additional stitching.   The sleeves were also full, and were pleated in ways similar to the neckbands.  The self portrait of Albrecht Dürer which is reproduced above, is dated 1493 and shows a similar type of shirt; the same portrait is reproduced in Nutz and Stadler's article.

Graphic by B. Nutz (p. 82)

Nutz and Stadler identified three different types of neckline pleats:  "rounded and either folded to one side (Type 1) or straight (Type 2)".  Type 1s may be folded either to the left or right--the researchers found both types.  Type 2s, so far as I can tell from the diagrams, are folded like a fan and caught with stitches, a little like very fine cartridge pleating.  

Graphic by B. Nutz (p. 83)

The authors also identify a Type 3 pleat, but it was found on only one garment.  I am having trouble distinguishing it from Type 2; the main difference appears to be that it involves significantly finer linen and finer pleats than the Type 2 garments but is of a similar shape; the authors call them "closely spaced, pointed, straight pleats that use a lot of fabric" (p. 79).  I have reproduced Professor Nutz's graphics from the article depicting the different pleat types in an attempt to clarify these descriptions.

The authors found four different techniques for sewing a band over the pleats, which they have labeled Types A, B, C, and D.  Type B was the most commonly found method; in it, the binding strip is placed right side against the pleated edge, sewn onto the pleats, and folded over the pleated edge.  Then the other edge is folded inward and sewn onto the pleats on the other side with whip stitching.  The other methods, though different in some details, still result in a band with a neat edge on both sides covering the raw edges of the pleats.

Interestingly, the bands were not the only means used to fix the pleats at wrist and neckline.  According to Nutz and Stadler all of the pleated samples had stem stitching about 0.5 to 2.5 cm below the band.  It is unclear from the surviving scraps whether this stitching was done before or after the bands were stitched in place or even whether the stem stitching showed on outside of the shirts/shifts when they were worn.  The stem stitching often was done in irregular rows, so the authors suggest they were not meant to be seen.  Analysis also shows, interestingly enough, that the sewing on this linen was done with a doubled thread, not a single thread.

As I've noted before, ATN is planning to make its issues available for free download after a few years, so this article will eventually be generally available.  For those who, like me, could not wait, Issue No. 54 can be bought for 20 Euros on the ATN website.  If you participate in 15th century European reenactment, it may be a worthwhile investment, just to examine Nutz and Stadler's article for yourself to learn whether your shift/shirt making techniques match what they found at Lengberg.
  

Finally, Professor Nutz also recently published a page discussing children's underwear found at Lengberg; that page may be found here.  This page includes two images that Nutz contributed to Jane Huggett and Ninya Mikaila's recent book, The Tudor Child. Both are torso garments, one sized for a very small infant, the other for a young girl, and both fasten with lacing. The article speculates about the purpose of the laced torso garment for a newborn.  The other garment appears to be the lining of a young girl's dress. If you cannot afford The Tudor Child at present, it may be worth checking out the photographs on the page--they suggest that structured garments could have been part of the wardrobe of some 15th century children.

The Lengberg Briefs--Buy Your Own!

Today I learned that Historic Enterprises, an American business that sells clothing and reenactment goods to medieval reenactors, has just started selling their own version of the Lengberg underpants. You can see the page where they're selling them, complete with a photograph, here. 

Apparently their Lengberg underpants are being sold as one-size-fits-most. That might work fairly well, depending upon how long the ties are and how the cloth piece is shaped.

I'd be interested in hearing from any male readers who purchase the item and try it out as to its durability, comfort, and convenience factors.

Medieval Women and Bikinis--A Coda

Engraving by Israhel van Meckenem (Wikimedia Commons)

Professor Beatrix Nutz, who is studying the late medieval undergarments found in Lengberg Castle, has written a short, informal article about the finds for the August 2012 issue of BBC History Magazine.  I was able to find a copy of the relevant issue at my favorite local bookstore, and read the article. (Pages 43-46.) Because the article contains some facts I had not run across with regard to the Lengberg finds so far, it seemed like a public service to post about the subject one last time before Professor Nutz's formal study of the finds is published in NESAT XI.

The most interesting information in the article is that, contrary to my previous understanding, there are a few artworks that show women wearing or donning underpants.  However, those artworks are invariably pictures of "a world turned upside down", as Professor Nutz says in the article,  or, more precisely, pictures showing a woman usurping male authority and prerogatives.  The 15th century engraving above (which also appears in the BBC History Magazine article) is one such image.  It boldly depicts a woman literally "putting on the [under]pants" while she lifts her distaff to hit her spouse with it.  Clearly, the issue of women wearing pants of any kind was already a sensitive point in 15th century Europe; apparently,  Western distaste for women in pants did not suddenly emerge in Europe in the Victorian era.  

Professor Nutz's article also discusses the fact that some 16th century women, at least in Italy, wore drawers. She observes that two royal Italian women (Eleanor of Toledo and Maria de Medici) owned one or more pairs. I knew about these undergarments, which were not bikini-like at all; they were more like Victorian pantalettes in shape. Bella has a selection of pictures of surviving Italian women's drawers on the Realm of Venus website.

So the idea that underpants in general were masculine already existed in Europe in the late medieval/early Renaissance period, and suggests that most women wouldn't have worn them--or at least, that a woman might not have admitted to wearing them if she could avoid doing so. 

Finally, the BBC History Magazine article notes that the bikini-shaped underpants I discuss in my last post were "repaired three times with linen patches, now overlaying one another." (Page 44)  Apparently (as one would expect with underwear) that undergarment was washed often and much used, which probably contributes to the absence of visible stains on the Lengberg bikini.   I don't know enough about the effectiveness of testing archaeological fibers to ascertain the materials present in a stain, but I suspect most underwear that is likely to be found will not yield much information from such a test, due to frequent washing as well as the passing of time.  EDIT (8/29/2012):  (struck in light of comment by synj-munki below). Perhaps Professor Nutz's NESAT paper will reveal whether any such testing was attempted on the Lengberg finds, and, if so, what information it yielded.

More on Late Medieval Underwear

It seems that a lot of people have been blogging and commenting about late medieval underwear lately, so a post collecting this information may be useful to those of my readers who are  interested in medieval costume.

One of my favorite costume scholars, pearl, recently posted a link to this short paper that she wrote about the photograph of a chemise that appears in Carl Köhler's classic work, A History of Costume. What she discovered is that the black-and-white photograph of a sleeveless "Chemise of the Fourteenth Century" that is now found in the Dover edition of Köhler was actually added by an editor during the late 1920s which, as pearl points out, explains why there is so little information about the garment in Köhler's book. Pearl traces the photograph back to Moriz Heyne, who says that the chemise in question, like the Lengberg undergarments, was found in a castle in Thuringia, Germany. Interesting reading!

Katrin Kania graciously responded to my questions about men's underwear in late medieval Germany in this recent post on her blog. It appears from Katrin's post that there are a small number of well-known pieces of late medieval German art that show some men in bikini-shaped garments like the Roman subligar. Some of these artworks plainly show men wearing a garment that closely resembles the Lengberg piece. not just in shape, but even with regard to the fact that it ties on only one side.

"The Men's Bath" (Wikimedia Commons)

After reading Katrin's post, I went digging for a bit more information.  I did not have any luck with searching the German-language art database she recommended, but I did find a number of underwear images in the costume guide of a well-known reenactment group, The Company of Saynt George. Pages 10 and 11 of the Company's costume guide for men (which can be downloaded for free here; the women's guide is presently being rewritten) includes about 12 different period images of men in underwear, with the sources identified. Most of the images show men in short underpants shaped not unlike modern "tighty-whitey" briefs, but there are at least two different images showing the bikini-like version. The Guide states:

"The Women's Bath" (Wikimedia Commons)

"Artworks of the period usually show two kinds with some subtle variations: A. Close fitting short like garments with a pleated "pouch" on the front. This style seems to be the most common type of braies. B. "Bikini" pants with ties appear in Swiss, German and Italian sources but not as frequently as the previous style."

So I was wrong to assume, as I did in this post, that the Lengberg "bikini" garment was female underwear. Moreover, as a commenter correctly advised me, there is no artistic evidence that women wore such bikini undergarments in medieval Europe. We see naked women in medieval German art from time to time, but not women in underpants. Here's an interesting example. A woodcut print and a pen-and-ink drawing by late 15th-early 16th century artist Albrecht Dürer highlights this interesting contrast. In the woodcut "The Men's Bath" (1507), Dürer clearly shows at least two men in bikini-like briefs; one standing on the left-hand side (he's lounging against a wooden pillar) and one in the middle of the picture (you can see the briefs, framed by the faces of the two men in the center foreground).  In contrast, in the drawing "The Women's Bath" (1496), we see women, most of whom are wearing headdresses, but are otherwise naked--they are wearing no briefs of any kind.

On the other hand, no one expected the bra-like garments found in Lengberg until 2008 when they were pulled from the walls of the castle. The blog Medieval Silkwork has recently featured two different posts about late medieval women's underwear. One shows period images of sleeveless shifts, with a high waistline, that are closely fitted through the bust, while the other discusses written sources that speak about breast binding and "breast bags." Both are well-written and illustrated, and very worthwhile reading, as is the essay showing the blogger's reconstruction of a fitted support garment similar to the Lengberg "long-line bra" garment, which can be found here. To me, the Medieval Silkwork essays suggest that the final chapter about women's underwear in 15th-16th Germany may not yet been written. The artwork shows sleeveless shifts, some of which likely were cut to provide breast support, but not garments that resemble the bra-like garments from Lengberg. Maybe the fact that the period art we have doesn't show women in briefs doesn't completely align with what women wore.

Now I'm looking forward even more eagerly to reading Professor Nutz's NESAT paper!

Austrian Linens

So a week went by, and now it's the end of July, and, to my chagrin, I have continued to be too busy to blog here.  Not wanting the month to end without a few costume-related words, I figured I'd comment on a phenomenon that even some of my costume-disinterested friends have remarked upon, namely, the fascinating 15th century CE underwear finds at Lengberg Castle.

The international popular media has published a surprising number of short articles about the "15th century bras" found at Lengberg. Many of my readers likely will have seen one or more of those.  The University of Innsbruck, which unsurprisingly has posted a much better article than the short "news" pieces that simply tout the "bra" finds; it can be read here.

There is another, equally interesting dimension to the Lengberg linens that the media isn't talking about. Some of the Lengberg finds are trimmed with what appears to be the earliest and most primitive form of lace--needle lace, a form of lace that has been traced to the late 15th century through artwork or other references but of which few datable period examples have been found.

This article from the University of Innsbruck briefly describes and discusses the needle lace finds. It includes lovely pictures of at least eight different specimens of needle lace, and suggests that needle lace may well have originated in the East Tyrol and not in Italy, as has typically been assumed.  Perhaps further study will provide more specific information that will confirm, or refute, the theory that Italy was the birthplace of such lace.

Finally, the Lengberg finds include underpants as well as bra-like garments and early lace. I referred to this find in a post last year, in which I noted the resemblance of such a garment to a type of classical Roman underwear called the subligar.  As I mentioned in that post, Professor Beatrix Nutz has prepared a paper about the bra finds that will be published in NESAT ("Northern European Symposium on Archaeological Textiles") XI; that volume should be published later this year. A PDF copy of the abstract for Professor Nutz's article may be found and downloaded from this page.

These finds will change the way both scholars and ordinary people think about medieval underwear, which is why I am glad that they are getting this much publicity, even if it is slightly sensationalized publicity. I look forward to reading Professor Nutz's article in the NESAT XI volume and learning what she has been able to deduce and discern from these humble scraps of linen.

UPDATE (8/6/2012):  It occurs to me that, whether or not needle lace was born in the Tyrol or in Italy, the Lengberg finds demonstrate that the linkage of lace and underwear is more than 500 years old.  The ramifications of that linkage is that the basic forms of our clothing change more slowly than people realize, even in these modern days of transient fashion fads.

Interesting Underwear

Katrin Kania blogged Thursday about some fascinating archaeological finds at a site in Austria.  During renovations of a historic castle, substantial number of different artifacts, ranging in estimated date from the 12th through 18th centuries, were found in the fillings of one of the spandrels of the building's vaulted ceiling.

Scan of photo by Beatrix Nutz

The finds include, not merely textiles, but actual garments, some nearly intact.  The most interesting garment, to me, is a woman's undergarment, dated to approximately the 15th century.  This article by Beatrix Nutz includes a picture of the undergarment and discusses it and some of the other finds; I have made a scan of a black-and-white printout of just the image of the undergarment, which appears beside this paragraph.

A subligar I made for myself

Why am I so certain that the picture shows a woman's garment?  Because the garment is nearly identical to a woman's garment, known from archaeological finds  as well as artwork, called a subligar.  A subligar is a bikini-style underpant that ties on the sides, and they are known to have been worn by women in ancient Rome.  Beside this paragraph is a picture of a subligar I made for myself from white linen.  I think the resemblance is interesting.

Ms. Nutz's article is in German, which I don't read, but Google Translate allowed me to pick out some interesting details about this undergarment from the article.  The undergarment found in the castle, like mine, is made from linen, but with "three layers" instead of one.  It was dated to sometime after 1440, based upon the age of the castle and the other findings, and confirmed by carbon-14 dating. 

Why do I find this garment so fascinating?  Because it suggests that perhaps the Roman style of underwear--consisting of a subligar for the lower body and a mammillare, or supporting band, for the breasts--not only became used in Northern Europe, but may have continued in use throughout the Middle Ages.  Who knows?  Perhaps Viking women used similar underwear.  As I have mentioned previously in this blog, at least one Birka find includes a small scrap of plain linen beneath what appears to be a pleated linen shift. Perhaps that plain scrap was part of a breastband.

For now, I can only hope that some future find turns up a subligar in a Viking context.